


set fire to our bed

by ElasticElla



Series: fate's broken circle [3]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Canon, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-09
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2019-03-15 17:37:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13618335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElasticElla/pseuds/ElasticElla
Summary: When Lysa insisted that she be the one to talk with the coven leader, she thought the girl was just shirking her responsibilities. Perhaps for the first time in hundreds of years, but love had a funny way of twisting even the most sound of minds.





	set fire to our bed

**Author's Note:**

> for those of you following le series, the next part (should) be the gretel/maia
> 
> title from florence + the machine's kiss with a fist

When Lysa insisted that she be the one to talk with the coven leader, she thought the girl was just shirking her responsibilities. Perhaps for the first time in hundreds of years, but love had a funny way of twisting even the most sound of minds. And little Lysa had just entered the throes of her first love, Kaelie can cut her a little slack. 

And then she meets Camille, and oh- Kaelie is going to enjoy this. 

.

Camille’s nails clink against her glass, crimson on crimson. They sit before an empty fireplace on cool leather armchairs, and Kaelie sips her rum. Camille makes quite the fetching image- all smooth red silk and accents- if over the top. The lipstick is a nice touch, and only the fact that it hasn’t dulled already proves it isn’t merely blood. 

“Was it the 1700s?” Camille muses. “When I tried to form a proper coalition to hold against the Clave, and you fae said it wasn’t possible? Not worth the lives sure to be lost in a doomed effort.” 

Kaelie wants to roll her eyes, no matter how pretty a vampire is they all have the same tragic sense of self-importance, dramatics, and pettiness. 

“Circumstances have changed.” 

“Ah yes, your little changeling spawn. From what I hear the Institute had a hand in that.” 

Kaelie’s eyes sharpen, “How do you know about her?” 

Camille laughs, victorious. “It was the only theory to explain her smell and disposition. I won’t be the last vampire to guess.” 

“Soon it won’t matter. We aren’t seeking political favor, we’re destroying the Clave.” 

“Confident, very confident for a seelie,” Camille says. 

Kaelie smiles, “Your help would be appreciated, but is in no means required.”

There’s a deep crack, and Camille lets go of the chair arm, brushing wooden bits off her hands. “You have the werewolves and warlocks. Why come here at all?” 

“Oh come now, there’s a poetry in parallels. And the big four all took out Valentine, they should take out the rest of the system.” 

Camille sighs, draining her glass. “Help the Clave out once and no one trusts you with good answers.” 

Kaelie smirks, “I believe you sold out your fellow vampires far more than _once_.”

“And would you happily march into death for your Queen?” Camille snaps. 

Kaelie doesn’t need to answer. It’s doubtful that Camille understands the depths a faerie will go to for their Queen- much less a Knight- but it’s better for this world not to know such things. 

“Fine. We’ll help. If only so that eternal queen of yours isn’t forced to use more vulgar means to summon Simon.” 

Kaelie hesitates a second too long surprised by the mention, sorting through truths and falsehoods- and Camille’s grin is positively shark-like. 

“So it is the mixed mutt, very well,” she says. 

Kaelie hasn’t made such a nonverbal misstep in sixty years. In spite of it, she finds herself even more intrigued with the vampire. She’ll have to keep watch on her until her allyship with the Queen is finalized, and Kaelie is no longer dreading so much time lost in a place of empty death.

Camille tosses her glass in the fireplace, a tinkling smash. “I’m going to retire.” Camille looks at her quarter-full glass, “You’re welcome to join me once you’ve finished.” 

A lesser person would think they’re being poisoned. (Not quite so literally, she thinks with a wry smile.)

Kaelie nods, and Camille walks away, stilettos clicking on the marble floor. She takes a moment to collect herself before drowning the last of her glass. It’s been a long time since she had a noteworthy dalliance, longer still since she thought one might last past a handful of nights. 

Standing, Kaelie rolls her shoulders and tosses her empty glass. The crash sends a thrill throughout her- knights aren’t supposed to be wasteful. They’re also supposed to put the Queen and her aims first at all times, but this is a mortal realm. Such oaths don’t hold her here, not with any teeth. Here, she’s practically free.

Kaelie isn’t at all surprised to find a naked Camille posed on her bed, joins her with a tripping heartbeat. She’s always been one to fall for a magnificent fantasy.


End file.
